Sonne und Mond
by Jennifer Darknight
Summary: A collection of Edward x Alfons drabbles taking place in various universes and timelines. All ratings. Updated daily.
1. Shy

"_Shy"_

Loud, brash, overly excitable, defender of all that is short…those were the things that Alfons Heiderich thought of when people spoke of his strange friend, Edward Elric. A Wild card, a ticking time bomb…

But never in his life had he ever seen someone approach him with so tentative a tactic, so innocent a maneuver, as he touched the younger man's hand and grasped it under the pub table.

…though that still didn't keep him from pinning him down and ravaging him when they were maybe three steps into the apartment, gold eyes glowing with something that eclipsed the almost _sweet_ shyness he had shown earlier.

A wild card, indeed.


	2. When you Sleep

"_When You Sleep"_

His breathing was always even in sleep. The ragged breaths that he heard during the day long since gone, replaced by a soft sound that would tickle his ears as he lay down next to him, bare bodies barely touching under the sheets.

The moonlight danced over his face as Alfons let out a sigh, a smile forming on his features.

"Edward…"

The whisper was low enough to not be heard at all, but Ed was all ears, still wide awake and listening to every word:

"…Hand me that blueprint on the table…might…might find a way to fix….the engine design…"

"All right." Ed brought himself to whisper with a chuckle, lying back down and watching his lover's features still as he drifted into sleep.


	3. Reading

"_Reading"_

Reading was something that Alfons did every day, and one of the few activities that he could do with Ed that didn't involve either a debate that would last well into the night (while it was fun to discuss things like science, history, and philosophy, the two of them had to wake up sometime in the morning, and talking like this wasn't going to get them up any earlier), Ed moping, or the two of them sweaty and breathing heavily under a blanket (or not…depending on what kind of mood they were in at the time).

It was quiet…it was peaceful.

It was a time when Alfons and Ed could just sit next to each other, shoulders barely touching, enjoying each other's company without the silly words that tended to get in the way.


	4. Cooking

"_Cooking"_

Ed had realized, not even a week after he had moved in with him, that Alfons was actually quite skilled with cooking. He couldn't whip up a gourmet meal or anything, but it was edible—and it was definitely better than the garbage that Ed would concoct whenever it was his turn to cook.

But everytime he would see his lover wearing that pale blue apron over his work clothes, food sizzling on the stove, Ed had to keep himself from laughing and pointing out just how _feminine_ Alfons looked—even with the short hair, it was a wonder that the younger man didn't have a magical sex-change right before his eyes.

Though the day Ed walked in the door and jokingly said "Hi honey, I'm home!" as he caught Alfons already in the middle of cooking dinner was the day that he ended up sleeping on the couch.

He may have always been bottom, but Alfons definitely didn't like being considered a _woman_.

…Not that there was anything wrong with women, of course.


	5. Look

"_Look"_

Alfons Heiderich was _evil_. Pure, straight, cherubic _evil_—he was a cruel man…a demon really, thriving off others' suffering…

The Evil One held the mewling kitten in his hands as the little thing played with his suspenders…as if he wasn't just rescued from being kicked to the curb.

"Thank you for letting me keep him, Ed…at least for the time being. Poor thing would never have lasted in that storm…"

He may not have had the infinite power of the Alphonse Elric puppy eyes, but Alfons had a look of his own…a look that the man didn't even notice himself _making_. Whenever he looked so sad, so damn _dejected_ with that tiny smile and those eyes that seemed about ready to spill quiet tears, Edward felt like he just broke the necks of one hundred innocent baby bunnies in cold blood. His heart would cave, and he would bend to the Aryan's will without so much as a hint of resistance.

Oh yes…Alfons Heiderich was _evil_.


	6. Chocolate

"_Chocolate"_

It was a rare treat, one that when Alfons was able to attain, he and his sweet tooth shamelessly _indulged_.

Ed didn't like sweets as much, but it was always nice to see Alfons's usual gentle smile drop in favor of a childlike grin, one which made Ed think that he was looking at a carefree seventeen-year-old, and not a young man who was dying a slow, painful death.


	7. What you Started

"_What you started"_

It had been a rare moment of impulse for Alfons, sitting there watching his friend stare out the window with a crinkled forehead and blunt eyes. He had kissed him lightly, though he had pulled back with an uncharacteristic squeak, ready to back up in case Edward was ready to let a punch fly.

It had been just another moment of impulse for Ed, whipping his head towards his roommate and _moving_, pinning the poor man down on the couch with his legs and prosthetic arm. His real arm had run down the side of his face as he kissed him, all the while murmuring something against warm lips that sounded something like, "You bastard, get back here and finish what you started."


	8. Gravity

"_Gravity"_

It was like floating, high up in the sky away from the cold reality of gravity's pull, his body light and his mind even lighter…soaring, perhaps?

_"Alfons…?"_

Was a star falling? He couldn't tell. He was just flying, flying…higher and higher, feeling the warmth cover his entire body and hold him close, tighter. Towards that blinding whiteness above him.

_"Dammit Alfons, say something!"_

How close was he to it? He was right there…just there…

_"Alfons!! Goddamn it, **open your fucking eyes!!!**"_

But he could feel Gravity grab onto his legs again, pulling him down again, down towards that tear-streaked voice that called his name.

It was hard, but he could walk on Earth just a little bit longer.


	9. Afterglow

"_Afterglow"_

Normally, he would have been disgusted. He _should_ have been disgusted with himself, lying there in the aftermath of having sex with a man who looked nearly identical to his little brother, and shared the same name (though spelled differently). He should have said that he had taken advantage of the man somehow, that he was going to end up hurting him in the end (much like he hurt everyone else)…and when that excuse didn't work, that he didn't _deserve_ the happy feeling that was welling in his gut, because of all the things he had done…

But none of that came to mind. Lying there, the scents of sex, sweat, and Alfons Heiderich in the air, the only thing Ed could think about was how warm he was, and how he didn't want to move away from Alfons as he lay curled up against him.


	10. Drunk

"_Drunk"_

Edward always hated it when Alfons was drunk; uncontrollable giggling mixed with philo talk was never a good combination by any means, especially when you were the poor sap who just happened to be living (and sharing a bed) with him. But it was when Alfons had a hangover—lying down and clinging to him like Edward was some sort of lifeline—that he hated the most.

It was during these times, when Alfons's head was still foggy and sentiment on the brain, that he talked about the older brother that Ed had taken away from him.


	11. Literature

"_Literature"_

Alfons Heiderich was a sucker for classic Russian literature (though he heard that the German translation was inaccurate in some places), so it was of no surprise that he kept a copy of Tolstoy's _War and Peace_ on his bookshelf.

Ed loathed Tolstoy's works almost as much as he hated religion; it was long-winded, flowery, and _never_ got to the point fast enough for his liking…Not just that, but the subject matter bored him to tears.

Alfons wondered if it was a good idea to mention to Ed that the book he just threw to the floor was a first edition, worth about as much as a whole year's rent.


	12. Song

"_Song"_

Of course Ed was wary when Alfons shyly admitted that he was the type to sing in the shower. He may have been a different person from Alphonse, but the German shared quite a few of his little brother's traits—Edward wasn't exactly looking forward to finding out whether or not the Gate had decided to play a cruel trick on him and give the sweet Aryan Alphonse Elric's inability to carry any sort of tune whatsoever.

The walls were thin, so there was no way to avoid hearing the sound when it came, even over the water as the jets blared in Ed's ears.

But to Ed's surprise the voice didn't come out shrill and off-key like he had expected; he almost had to check himself to make sure that the radio wasn't playing, and the strong, sweet tenor floating over the water jets was in fact Alfons, and not just a singer over the airwaves.

When Alfons asked if Ed had heard him, the elder Elric had lied and said that he didn't even notice he was singing at all…though in reality he wasn't ready to admit that he had once again been proven wrong by this man who looked so similar to his baby brother but _wasn't_, and that he had, in fact, _liked_ what he had heard coming out of the sanctity of the shower stall.


	13. Mistaken Identity

"_Mistaken Identity"_

Alfons knew that he looked just like Ed's little brother, Alphonse Elric. He apparently had a similar demeanor too (as well as a worrying mother-hen instinct), though Ed assured him that they were two very different people when it came down to it (Alfons being a complete doormat, for one…Alphonse was good-natured and warm-hearted, but he _never_ let anyone step on him). They had to have been…or else Alfons would have fallen in love with a very twisted, incestuous man.

It should have irked him that Ed would sometimes slip and call him "Al" in casual conversation, but all he had to do was remember their first meeting, when he hugged Ed close and called him "Brother" when he met him at the train station, Hohenheim in tow (though he quickly learned that Ed was, in fact, _not_ his older sibling…especially when Ed practically _wore_ his atheism on his sleeve…like a medal, almost; Edward Heiderich was known by everyone in the family as devoutly religious, despite his loud and brash personality), that he had no right to be upset at someone who missed his little brother just as much as he missed his big brother.


	14. Caffeine

"_Caffeine"_

"I heard that caffeine, specifically hot coffee or tea, is good for opening the lungs," Alfons said one day, during his and Ed's usual random conversations at the breakfast table.

"Where did you hear that?" Ed asked, the piece of toast falling from his mouth and back onto the plate.

"I overheard some of the medical students talking about it when I went to the University yesterday."

"It's probably just a rumor."

Though that didn't stop the eldest Elric from turning on the kettle the next time Alfons started coughing.


	15. Sick

"_Sick"_

"Edward, please! I don't have time for this…"

Alfons squirmed against the older man's grip, but to no avail; even with one arm and one leg, Edward Elric was _strong_, pinning him to the bed with body weight alone while his leg hooked the German's own, preventing escape as Ed's hand rested against his forehead. From the look in those golden eyes and the irritated scowl that formed on that beautiful face, it was obvious that he wasn't moving from his spot until Alfons caved into him.

Or caved into the mattress, whichever one came first.

"I have to meet someone today—we're too low on funds to walk away from meetings with potential sponsors…"

"But what good'll you be when you're _sick_?" Edward snapped, not wavering for an instant. "You probably won't be able to walk half a block without fainting, and I'll be damned if I let you lie unconscious in the middle of the street so some asshole can mug you while you're defenseless."

"But Edward"

"No buts." Those eyes were just _steely_ now; why was it that Alfons could make him cave over the little things (like letting him care for stray kittens, for example) like he was putty in his hands, but whenever something like _this_ happened, it was in fact Alfons who ended up turning into the putty himself? And the way he was looking at him…

"But what about"

Again, Edward cut him off:

"I'll go, you idiot. You just sleep here until I get back." Ed must have seen Alfons's dubious look, because he rolled his eyes. "I know what I'm doing—don't give me that look."

"Well…" why couldn't he ever deny him? He didn't feel _that_ bad—despite feeling like ten cars hit him and being hotter than a furnace, he'd gone to work in worse condition (though he didn't think Edward would trust him ever again if he told him that—God knew he worried about him as it was, and he didn't even want to _think_ about what Edward might pull if he ever had the impression that Alfons wasn't properly taking care of himself).

He was not about to let Edward get his way again. He had to—

Alfons shifted again.

Edward merely glared, shifting again against him in a retaliatory gesture.

"You're not going anywhere." He said. "don't try fighting."

"But they're expecting…"

"I already told you—I'm going. Just shut up, deal, and go to sleep. I'm not going to be gone long."

A low sigh. It didn't matter how hard he struggled…Alfons Heiderich was always defeated at the hands of the enigmatic Edward Elric. "Then you'd best leave now, if you don't want to keep Mr. Mustang waiting."

"…Mustang?"

"Yes." Alfons blinked. What was with the…apprehensive look? "I told you last night, remember? Wait—maybe you don't. Our potential sponsor's name is Roy Mustang."

He could have sworn that Ed mumbled something about "Colonel Bastard" as the young man stomped out of the room with something akin to frustrated nostalgia in his eyes.


	16. Laundry

"_Laundry"_

"Edward, I…"

Ed cut him off, gesturing to the tub of cold, soapy water in front of him with a glare.

"Just shut up and put your shirt in there."

Sighing, Alfons peeled off the bloody garment, and Edward put it in the water and started scrubbing. Alfons would have done it himself, but with the look he was getting as Ed motioned him to 'sit', that didn't seem like it was an option.

"…So, Alfons." Ed glanced over at him after a moment.

"Yes, Edward?"

Ed turned back to his work, scrubbing harder.

"You're okay now, right?"

"Yes," Alfons said with a soft smile. "I'm okay now."


	17. Cleaning

"_Cleaning"_

Alfons Heiderich sighed, picking up another sock and throwing it over his shoulder. Just how many socks was he going to run into, anyway? Or rather, how many articles of clothing that had never seen the light of day was he going to find, anyway? It was like the more he dug into this garbage pile, the more things kept appearing, and it didn't help that the one who had asked him 'for help' in the first place was…

Alfons picked up a shoe and chucked it at the closet, direct-hitting the subject in question square in the back of the head.

"Alfons…!" Edward whined, holding his head and glaring. "The hell was that for?!"

"Do less reading, and more cleaning, Edward." Alfons sighed. "I know that you're interested in finding out the hidden details of your former commanding officer's private life, but I'm not going to sit by and let you make me do all the work. After all, you were the one who lost the bet; you're lucky that I'm helping you at all."

"You wouldn't let me wade through this shit by myself, would you?!"

"Of course not." A pause. "But if you don't actually start _cleaning_, I might actually have to."


	18. Gone

"_Gone"_

He was only supposed to be gone for a week; just a damned _week_, and already he was missing the comforts of 'home'. The smell of their numerous models sitting around the unused guest bedroom; the scent and sound of parchment being scratched on in the late hours of the night; Alfons's cooking, which was light years better than the shit they called 'food' here…Ed was even missing that godforsaken dining room table with the taped up chair leg that he was supposed to get around to fixing.

But most of all…

He missed the feeling of a warm, familiar presence sitting beside him.


	19. Side

"_Side"_

He had only been gone for a few days; some stupid lecture he had to attend that he didn't pay much attention to anyway, and though Alfons was too unwell to go, he had assured him that he would be fine and would take care of himself while Ed was gone.

But he hadn't expected Alfons to be curled up and sleeping soundly on Ed's side of the bed, the older man's pillow hugged close and the blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon, all the while a contented, innocent smile on his lips.


	20. Hair

_"Hair"_

It was so pretty, so _silky_. It was like threaded gold, almost; it shimmered in the sun in just the right way, and it framed his face _just so_ to where it almost begged to be played with, to have his fingers run through it again and again until that feeling was burned deep within his tactile subconscious.

But Ed never let Alfons touch his hair. He would dart, move, and almost _weave_ to avoid Alfons's searching, almost begging hands.

The kicker of it was that Ed seemed to think he had the right to mess with Alfons's hair on a moment's notice, though it never made any sense to him because his hair was _short_, and impossible to play with in any case.

Edward though just kept moving his fingers up and down Alfons's scalp in that almost-routine (yet impossibly soothing) massaging motion…

And the argument was dropped.


	21. Wonder

"_Wonder"_

Watching Alfons now as he touches the sheets with such ginger tenderness, smiling just a little bit as he folds them into neat hospital corners, Edward fleetingly wonders what it would be like feeling those fingers dance across his bare skin.


	22. Funeral

"_Funeral"_

It was a somber occasion to be sure, but Alphonse Elric was unsure whether or not he could cry for someone he had never even met—someone who had the same face and name as himself, but wasn't him at all. Someone he had seen in dreams, but had never truly known…

But if his brother's eyes, so detached and…_alone_, were any indication, then maybe he could…for his sake.


	23. Name

"_Name"_

He never called Alphonse by his full name anymore, but Al understood why. To do so was to imply that they were the same person…and that was something his brother could never do, no matter how alike they were.

"Al" was the baby brother who now lived with him.

"Alfons" was the lover who lived with him then, and whose spirit still lived on in everything his brother did.


	24. Closet

**Warning: **Not Worksafe!! Here be porn, kiddies.

* * *

"_Closet"_

They shouldn't have been doing this. It was wrong, it was unacceptable…in the University _broom closet_ for crying out loud, it was just…

…So damn _exhilarating_ as Alfons felt Edward slam into him for the umpteenth time, holding him steady with his good arm while keeping the closet door closed with his false one, all the while making the German almost _swim_ in heady pleasure.

His body burned with lust, his erection _begging_ to be touched, but the feeling of danger and the risk of getting caught only heightened the feeling, sending him spiraling further and further in his own sensations, finally causing him to cry out against the gag as he came.


	25. Fly me to the Moon

**Note: **This was written for Narakunohime, with the prompt, "Rocket".

* * *

"_Fly me to the Moon"_

"Edward, could you check the booster?"

"Alfons, it's _fine_. I've checked it five times."

"Are you sure? I think I might have overdid the…"

Edward glared at him, planting a quick kiss on the taller man's mouth before he could keep complaining and make this harder than it already was.

"Seriously Alfons—you really need to quit talking about Rockets in your sleep. It's damn creepy."


	26. Still Hungry

**Note: **Written for BinaryAlchemist on LiveJournal, with the prompt "Ice Cream".

* * *

_"Still Hungry"_

"Edward, can we stop yet? It's cold."

Alfons struggled against the bindings, hoping against hope that either (A) his body heat would melt the cursed cold stuff sticking to his skin, or (B) Ed would quit these games and just finish it up already. The chocolate syrup was starting to get in his _hair_, dammit...that was going to take forever to wash out.

Ed grinned down at him, picking a cherry off with his teeth, laving the now vacant area with his tongue and eliciting a gasp from Alfons's lips.

"But I'm still hungry. And after dessert, we can go on to the main course."

Oh yes.

Edward was going to pay dearly for this once Alfons got free.

...If he _ever_ got free, that is.


	27. Wrong

**Warning: **Not Worksafe!! Here, there be porn, kiddies.

* * *

"_Wrong"_

It was like a game of cat-and-mouse, this morning ritual of deception that he performed in the sanctity of the bathroom. Privacy was a luxury in this tiny apartment, and Ed had to practically book in advance to get it…even though he was sure that the lame 'I have to do my hair' and 'I have to wash my hands' excuses lost their luster by now.

…But it was the only place where he could hide and jerk off while thinking about fucking his roommate senseless. His innocent and oblivious roommate who had the face of his _baby brother_.

It was sick, it was dirty, it was _twisted _(_He isn't Al,_ Ed would reason to himself, _This shouldn't feel so **wrong**_), but imagining that soft, sweet voice panting under him, crying out his name as Ed thrust into him, again and again…

It was enough to send him over the edge with a muffled cry, the evidence of his perversion spilling all over his hands and lap in a moment of shameless release.

…He was sure that Alfons was starting to catch on by now.


	28. Cake

**Note: **Written for BinaryAlchemist on LiveJournal.

* * *

_Cake_

You know, this was getting tiring. For just one night, Alfons would have liked to get some damn _sleep_, or maybe have some normal sex for a change, he wasn't sure which.

But the second Ed got ahold of Winry's cake decorator bags and numerous tips, whipped cream, a large enough table to set Alfons on and bindings strong enough to hold poor Alfons on said table, that was it. He was already decorated from head to foot; he was sure that he was covered in the most intricate cake designs this side of Resembool, and if it weren't for the fact that he was _blindfolded_, he might have been able to see them.

"Ah, shit."

Did Edward run out of Whipped cream?! Oh, please, Mary, Joseph, Jesus, and whoever else was a part of that Holy Family that he missed, tell him that he was _out of whipped cream_!!

"Edward?" Alfons's voice was small, frightened.

The answer was something wet and warm sliding along his inner thigh, something like a...like a _tongue_, teasing yet satisfying and it all-around caused the German's body to shiver.

"Messed up," Edward whispered against his skin, teasing the spot just one more time, just to feel Alfons shiver again.

Oh, Alfons was definitely hating this game.

And he still hadn't found a way to get back at Edward for it yet...


	29. Cooking: Take Two

_Cooking: Take Two_

"Aren't you going to say something, Edward?"

Ed put a bit of the steak in his mouth, glaring at the other man from the corner of his eye.

"You're enjoying this too much, you bastard."

"Well? How is it?"

The glare he threw him should have sent the man in cardiac arrest, but will can't kill, so Ed was out of luck unfortunately.

"…Okay, _fine_! Al likes your cooking better! Can we drop it now?!"


	30. Cry

_Cry_

Alfons had never seen Edward Elric cry; he had been emotional, sure…he would clench his fists and just stare into an infinite swarm of nothing for hours, just moping about nothing and everything. But he had never _cried_; never sobbed until he couldn't feel himself move anymore.

That is, until the day that the surgery was finished, and Alfons was lying down, finally _fine_, after all these years, in that Central City hospital bed.

Edward had just walked in, silent, grabbed his hand as tightly as he could without hurting him, and cried.


	31. Kiss

**Note:** For KawaiiTenshi, because this was inspired by a fanart pic she showed me.

* * *

_Kiss_

Ed's kisses were always forceful; hard and demanding and he never, ever, _ever_ asked—just grabbed the front of whatever shirt that Alfons was wearing and _took_, and greedily so.

So when Alfons felt the older man's lips, so soft and tender over his own, he was so shocked that he almost didn't hear the heartfelt "I love you" whispered in his ear.


	32. Home

_Home_

Home was where the heart was, where a man hung his hat at the end of the day and laid down in at night.  
It was where all the fondest memories were kept, the best days gone by…

For Alfons, home was Edward, lying down safe in his arms.


	33. Moonlight

_Moonlight_

It was shining through the window…shimmering through the pane and down onto the bed, where a blond young man lied down, silently breathing in and out in sleep.

Edward didn't have to lift the blanket to know that the man was naked; pale skin fully exposed to the elements, the blanket the only thing that kept it hidden…and if he wanted to, Edward could fully expose that, and Alfons wouldn't have been able to do a thing.

He knew that he had to keep the blanket on—winter nights with no heaters made a man quite chilled after all…

But he couldn't help but want to do it anyway…just to see the man's entire body, drinking it in as he was illuminated by the moonlight.


	34. Like You

_Like You_

"Dammit Al, you two look the _same_. How can I…?!" Edward stood, desperate, slamming his hands on the table and rattling the dishes atop it. "What if I…What if I feel the same way about _you_, too?!"

"You won't, Brother," Al said gently, dabbing his mouth with a napkin, stance sure and straight, oddly calm judging the situation. "Because he's _not_ me…and that's why you fell in love with him in the first place, isn't it?"


	35. Hairbrush

_Hairbrush_

**Note: **For Deathspie on LiveJournal.

"Edward, hold still!"

"Alfons, dammit, it HURTS! I said, I can do it!"

"It wouldn't hurt if you'd just stop moving!"

"AGH! Now it's STUCK!"

"Just let me get it out, Edward—hold still."

Alphonse sighed, walking down the hall and banging on the door, hair in disarray and expression irritated.

"Are you guys having sex," he called, "Or did the brush get caught in Brother's hair again?!"


	36. What?

…_What? _

Edward blinked once.

Twice.

Three times, staring at the man in front of him.

Poor guy was a blushing wreck; short hair stuck to his neck from self-induced nervous sweats, his body slouched a bit and his hands clenching and unclenching into unsure fists.

"...What?"

Alfons's eyes closed, the blush on his face deepening.

"_Ich sagte: Ich Liebe Dich!"_

**: I said: I love you!**


	37. One Shot, on the Rocks

_One Shot, on the Rocks_

"What would you like?"

Edward smiled. "Napoleon for me…and something light for the lady."

Alfons threw him a glare, clearly unamused.

"Edward, I think I'm in the mood for something _strong_ right about now."

"I thought you didn't like hard liquor, Alfons."

Alfons rolled his eyes. "After being called a woman, I'm wondering why I haven't punched you yet. Maybe getting drunk is a better alternative."


	38. I'm Here

_I'm here_

Note: For ssjkawaiitenshi, because she was depressed, and I wanted to cheer her up with this little drabble.

Edward knew that Alfons didn't like to cry. The tears would form on the corners of his eyes, his smile would turn into a soft frown, but he would only allow himself the luxury of it when he was truly weak, so weak and scared he didn't know where to turn anymore…

But whenever he did all Edward could do was wrap his arms around the poor man and hug him close, saying nothing except two words, which seemed to make the sobs grow stronger but somehow made him calm a bit:

"I'm here."


	39. Hospital

_Hospital_

"Edward, you can go home…really, I'm all right. Hospitals are the same no matter which world you're in, and I'm certain that nothing horrifying will happen to me when you're gone. Really…get some rest."

But Edward simply sat there, reading, almost ignoring Alfons entirely but he knew he had heard him. He twitched a bit and the fingers on the pages quickened…though if one didn't know Edward Elric it would just seem like he was getting more engrossed in the book in front of him.

But Alfons knew that he wasn't really reading.

A sigh escaped Alfons's lips and he leaned back against the bed, resting his head against the pillow and closing his eyes.

"I guess you're going to hide under the bed tonight then, too…You know that the nurses are going to catch on if you keep doing this."


	40. Assistant

_Assistant_

When Edward had been asked to help Alfons with something, he hadn't expected that it would be in the kitchen, an apron tied to his clothes and with him using his automail hand as a whisk, beating a mixture until smooth.

Alfons always was in the zone when cooking, though. Much like when he's with his beloved rockets, his eyes would sparkle and a large smile would be plastered on his face, fingers almost flying over meats, cheeses, and other foods that Edward himself couldn't recognize by sight or smell, but knew they tasted good when they were put together.

He was always so happy doing this…much like when he was working. It was enough to make Edward stop what he was doing and stare, entranced,…

Only to be interrupted by Alfons's surprised cry.

"Edward! Oh my God, out of the way—you're messing it up!"


	41. Picture

"_**Picture"**_

**Note: **Takes place in the universe of "To Find Shamballa"

"Noa, sweetie, what have you got there?"

Alfons shouldn't have asked this question. Seeing the young girl with crayons and paper was bad enough, but seeing her with that bright, cheery look on her face was never good.

"Drawing my family." She said matter-of-factly, looking to Alfons with a large, almost cherubic smile.

"Can I see?"

He really shouldn't have asked this, either.

"Sure!" Noa chirped, and handed him the piece of parchment.

It was a very infantile drawing to be sure, but one couldn't really knock the art skills of a five year old girl…

Wait a minute.

There was a man with long hair…obviously Edward. A little girl…obviously Noa. But there was a second woman, wearing a dress.

What?

"Who's the second woman, honey?"

Shouldn't have asked, of course.

"That's not a woman, silly!" Noa said with a chuckle. "That's you!"

"But Noa…I'm wearing a _dress_."

"Well," How matter-of-fact a five-year-old could be, Alfons would never guess. It was almost like he was talking to his mother in a tiny body, with the way she spoke in that "Now you listen here, young man" voice, and he swore she was going to start wagging her finger and lecture him. "Since a family always has a mommy and a Daddy, I had to make it akkurit."

"You mean 'accurate'?"

"That's what I said! Anyway," she continued, "I needed a mommy and a daddy and I can't have _two_ daddies; that would be weird. So I asked Ed and _he_ told me that you should be the mommy and he should be the daddy, because he's on the top and you're on the bottom." Noa gave Alfons a quizzical look. "Alfons? What's 'on the bottom' mean?"

"Nevermind that," Alfons said with a forced smile. "do you know where Ed is? He and I need to have a little _talk_."


	42. Pillow Talk

_Pillow Talk_

"So…Edward." The voice was tiny…almost nonexistent…but still heard in the stillness of the room. Even through the musk of sex, the heaviness of sweat, and the heat of closeness…it was amazing how his tone could be so shy…so hesitant.

"What?" Edward grunted, gold eyes staring up at the ceiling, glazed still.

"What do you usually say…after you make love?"

"I'll tell you when the room fucking stops spinning." Was the responding grunt.


	43. Voyage

_Voyage_

Waiting at the gate for something he wasn't sure would even return.

The sun shone as usual, and the wind started to blow in the trees…

The world was calm, the world was still…the green grasses of Resembool calming his nerves, replacing his senses when before his town had been nothing but homelessness, tears and death.

But something was missing.

Surely soon Alfons would see that familiar figure go up the road, coming towards the house where he now waited.

Winry said that with the war it was unlikely for him to come home for a long time…and Al wouldn't say anything…just try to go through the day as normal without dying from the sheer worry that had to have consumed him.

Alfons though, knew that he had to come home eventually…

Edward had promised, after all.

And then, maybe…with him home, everything at peace, and all loose ends tied up…

Edward could bring this restless voyage of his to an easy rest.


	44. Seduction

_Seduction_

Alfons wasn't very good at seducing. He was awkward, blushed easy, and whenever he tried to be dominant, he'd shy away before he had a real chance to act on his desires.

So he never understood why Edward would suddenly pin him down like that. Pin him down and kiss him fiercely, calling him a "Fucking tease" as his tongue traced the shell of his ear.


	45. Mirror

_Mirror_

Watching Alfons Heiderich was like looking in a mirror, Al decided…a mirror that reflected a side of him that could have been, but wasn't.

Someone that was him, but wasn't…

_Someone who definitely wasn't,_ Alphonse thought dryly as he watched Alfons and his brother start making out in the kitchen again, making his exit before his brother could find him.

After all, the last time his brother had found out that Al had seen him, he had confined all physical contact to his bedroom, late at night…

And Al enjoyed _sleep_, thanks.


	46. Being

_Being_

There were some things that made up a person. Personal traits, likes, dislikes, needs, wants…it summed up their very _being_, their very essence…their very existence, so to speak.

Everytime Edward Elric thought about it, Alfons was the last person he could have ever thought to be near him like this…Alfons was quiet, stable, hard to rock, and physically _weak_, besides. He was completely the opposite of what Edward had wanted…or at least, thought of wanting…when he had even taken the time to think about this sort of thing.

But…

In the end, when it all came down to it…

He knew that the one he wanted the most would be the least expected.

And really…he didn't mind that all too much.


	47. Special Ingredient

_Special Ingredient_

"So you're saying that this is your mother's recipe book?"

Alfons blinked at the thing, turning it left and right. It was an old, ratty book…well cared for, that was for sure, but wear and tear were obvious on the cover, and the pages were darkish and yellowed with age.

"Yeah—a copy of it anyway. Apparently Mom gave a copy of it to Granny to give to Winry when she got older."

"Then why do _you_ have it, Edward? If this is Winry's, then…"

"She gave it to me. Said she didn't need it—dammit Alfons, get off your ass and help me! I can't clean this dump by myself!"

The room wasn't _that_ bad, and Alfons bit his tongue to keep him from telling Edward that this 'dump' of a house would have been much worse if the Aryan had _not_ spent half the day yesterday cleaning it up, while Edward went out on a leisurely outing with his brother, to 'catch up on old times', so to speak. Not to say the man didn't deserve the break, but still...

But he did as he was asked…after all, an agreeable but delusional Edward was a lot better than a mopey one.

Might as well humor him.

* * *

"Alfons, the hell are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm cooking dinner."

"I can see that."

"Don't worry, Edward—I put plastic over the book so it won't get anything on it. I just want to try one of the recipes in here tonight."

He had always said that he loved his mother's cream stew—it was one of the first recipes in here, actually…with a tiny note written in the margin about Edward and something-or-other that he couldn't make out…it was far too faint. Her handwriting was very neat, though…sloping and feminine…much different from his own mother's…

He looked down at the page, scanning the contents…

"Meat…carrots…potatoes…brea…"

Wait.

That had to have read wrong.

Meat, Carrots, potatoes, water…

Breastmilk.

No, no…he had to have read it wrong. English was his second language after all, so it had to…

…

…

No.

That's what it said.

Breastmilk.

Breastmilk, like…mother's breastmilk.

…..

And Edward…loved eating this, didn't he?

"Edward…" Alfons tried hard not to let his voice shake. "Your mother…she, ah…did she ever tell you what she put in her stew?"

Edward blinked, shaking his head. "No."

"Did you ever read any of these recipes, Edward?"

"Most of them."

"But not this one?"

"I said I didn't know what was in it, Alfons, so get to the fucking point!"

Oh Edward.

Edward, Edward, Edward…

"Well." He tried so hard at letting out a chuckle…at laughing. Too bad it wasn't working at the moment. His throat felt too dry. Edward liked his mother's stew…which was made from her breastmilk. Ohhh, his Oedipus complex just went from bad to worse in the span of twenty seconds. "Then could you go down to Nelly's for me? We're fresh out of breastmilk."

"Breastmilk? What the fuck?"

Alfons had to look away, so as not to start laughing at Edward's expression…no doubt it was a mixture of confused, angry, and probably a bit disturbed…not that he blamed him. It did seem a bit out of left field…

"Well, Edward…it says here that we need a cup and a half of fresh breastmilk. As I am a man, and cannot lactate, I'm sorry to say that I can't supply this myse"

"You're yanking my fucking chain."  
Alfons sighed. "Look at it yourself."

He still didn't look at Edward, even as he was shoved aside, and the man glanced over the offending page, eyes scanning it.

He didn't look at Edward, even when he heard the slight urk of disgust, and the loud pattering of feet as he left the kitchen as fast as he could go.

And Alfons really couldn't bring himself to tell Al the real reason why Edward was so sick when the poor boy caught him heaving in the toilet a few minutes later.


	48. That guy's Gay

_**That Guy's Gay**_

Note: Prompt unwittingly given by Caitlinneko

"That guy's gay."

Alfons took a glance up, blinking at Edward as he stared off, near the edge of the table.

"What?"

"That guy. He's gay."

Oh lord, not this again. The last time he went on a kick like this, the two of them played this game until late into the night, and the last thing Alfons needed was a slightly-drowsy-and-drunk Edward staring out over the coffee table, glancing in the direction of the mirror as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Certainly he should have gotten used to it by now.

But no.

It was still quite irritating.

"That's because it's you, Edward. Now shut up and drink some water…you probably lost a bunch of it after throwing up in the gutter earlier."


	49. Water

**Water**

Written to Yuna Ito's "Miss You"

Because of his prosthetics, Edward could never swim. Just the little bit of water in the gears would send him spiralling downwards, the slight malfunction costing him his maneuverability and ability to just hold his weight up.

Poor Alfons had often been the victim of this, during one of his many times to get Edward to 'get out for once', especially during a particularly nasty incident involving him, Edward, a lake, and gravity's tendency to work at the worst times. The two had managed to get out all right, but Alfons had never given up on his attempts to get Ed to 'lighten up', though the rest of the time it was far, far away from anything wet.

If Alfons was still alive, he might have been surprised to know that Edward still went there every year with his baby brother, who wondered why Edward's laughter was laced with tears everytime Al managed to save the man from drowning for the umpteenth time.


	50. When Dreams Become

**When Dreams Become...**

When Dreams become reality, there's no real reason for them to be dreams anymore...

Looking at the setting Resembool sun, hands behind his head, coat fluttering in the wind...Alfons couldn't help but miss the stuffy feeling of their old apartment, even with that horrible stove, leaky faucet, scuffed floors, and the lack of real communication.

...Because in those days, Amestris was only a dream. Now that it was a reality, it was something that existed every day in his life, and it was no longer that special secret kept between him and Edward alone.


	51. Prison

_"Prison"_

* * *

It was a prison.

The tightening in his chest was his shackles, his sweat-slicked skin his striped suit. Trapped without a cell, imprisoned without a reason.

Helpless. Alone. Doomed.

That's what he thought he was.

What Alfons didn't know was that Edward and his strange world held the key to his freedom all along. It just took blood in his lungs, a forced shove into a contraption he wasn't meant to be _inside_, damn it, and a trip that was beyond his comprehension to realize that.


End file.
